Memories
by Elerick
Summary: They shouldn't have memories... but that scent was familiar. It wouldn't let him go. Hunter x Smoker oneshot slash, more sad then dirty


Memories

Hunter x Smoker

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Been meaning to do this for a long time in some shape or form, looks like its fanfic. Technically I'm just writing about more zombies, cept now they're screwing other zombies

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That scent.

Just the faintest smell hanging defiantly between the falling drops. It was one among hundreds he could detect, he shouldn't have given it a second thought.

That scent.

He had to find cover, that was what was important, the damp fabric of his hoodie was beginning to cling to his skin, soak through to his bones. Even an animal knew to get out of the rain, and that's what he was now.

But…

It was familiar.

Memories were something almost beyond him now. A life, a family, he faintly understood the words with what was left of his mind, but they meant nothing. Still the scent tugged at him, he nearly felt it as he leaped from rooftop to rooftop. It refused to leave him alone, just as it refused to be pushed down by the rain.

The stale scent of cheap cigarettes.

"_Those things will kill ya', you know."_

With a growl he let a shiver run down his back, flinging droplets like wet dog, and took off to find what wouldn't let him go.

His claws scratched and sunk into the slippery cement with each bound but the fear of plummeting the dozens of stories down didn't cross his mind, he was on the hunt, all that mattered was his prey.

And it was getting closer.

The smell stuck to his throat as he drew near, he plunged through a broken roof, shivering himself free of rain once again. Crouching close to the plush carpet that silenced his claws, he crept low and silent. He could hear noises in the next room but they didn't ring of the usual jabbering of those strange people with guns so he tuned it out.

All that mattered was the catch.

With a window shattering screech he shot around the corner, off a wall, until he felt the sudden give of a body, the soft thud as they both landed on the floor, and the faint heat of another living soul before he tore out their insides and painted the walls.

But his claws were still.

The scent…

"_Those things will kill ya', you know."_

_A wince of pain, deep laughter._

"_I be alive a lot longer then you if you keep trying those stunts."_

A fellow monster lay under him, the kind that its tongue always lagged behind it. He must had knocked the wind out of him when he pounced as there was a lack of the usual hacking that always flowed from his kind, instead replaced by a weak wheeze.

He'd come in contact with dozens of them, never paid a second thought. But the smell, the faint tint of voice in his gasps, he couldn't see him, but he knew this person.

No, not a person, a person ran around shooting things, a person satisfied the hunger of a few days without food, they weren't people. They didn't talk, they didn't think about things, they acted on instinct.

But they _had_ talked, they had known each other.

His rotted brain strained painfully.

The other must had known it too, he didn't raise a tongue in defense to the stranger perched on his lower stomach. Though he couldn't see, he could feel the taller monster staring at him. Without consent his body cringed when he felt a hand brush against his face as it removed the still drenched hood from his head. Had he been outside he would have bit him, he hated the light, even without site, but it was so alien to feel touch without pain that he was stunned, unsure of how to respond.

The shock was broken when a single sudden cough broke thickly from his throat. It was painfully familiar.

Was that a word?

…Was that a name?

… … Had they been in this position before?

A migraine was pounding in his head.

"_Those things will kill ya', you know."_

_A tall teenage boy giving an annoyed sideways glance from his cigarette._

_A smaller boy with his arms out balancing as he walked on a handrail. An attempted jump to the other railing, a failure, a painful fall to the pavement._

_A familiar deep laugh._

"_I be alive a lot longer then you if you keep trying those stunts."_

It was haunting, like a far off movie reel playing in the back of his mind.

_A low growl._

"_You'll be jealous when I'm on TV."_

"_Yeah, I can see it now: 'Dumb Ass Killed While Trying To Scale Local Wal-Mart'."_

"_Dude, you're the dumb ass! Free running is epic. Check this!"_

_The sound of tennis shoes slapping against a cement wall, the whistle of wind flowing around a body in mid air. But something was wrong._

_The frantic thud of heavier boots. A panicked shout of that name again._

_The sudden give of a body, the soft thud as they both landed on the ground, the faint heat of another living soul._

Here they were again….

_Air was suddenly thick in the boys' lungs as they stared into each other's wide eyes. Hearts beat in a nervous frenzy, faces reflected it in a soft pink._

They both ached for the same thing, they wanted it for a long time, he knew this.

But…

"_Y-you gonna get off me or make out with me?"_

"_Hey, you were the one who save my ass prince charming!"_

"_No homo, man, no homo."_

And that was it, the soft heat and contact were gone.

But now it was back.

And the thing about not being able to think…

Your instincts take over.

In the next instant he found himself on his back with a mouth and extremely long tongue pressed aggressively to his mouth. Apparently the other remembered as well.

His first reaction was to fight back, but the man was larger than him and easily held him down but with a haunting gentleness he couldn't understand. What was left of his mind clouded over with the sudden heat, causing his limbs to go weak and claw shakily at the other's jacket. They tore the fabric with each shudder that came when his long tongue found a new unknown sensitive spot in his mouth, he could taste those cigarettes as well as if he were smoking them himself.

The morning came, he knew it did, the sting of sunlight on the hollow caves where his eyes had been stung in the light. Hissing he clawed at his hood and tried to curly away, only to find he couldn't. With a groggy blind hand he groped to find another clinging around his waist. For the first time he noticed the wheezing in his ear from the other's shallow breath and the radiating warmth… wasn't their kind supposed to be cold.

The sheer… tenderness of the situation made him uncomfortable and he managed to wriggle himself free without disturbing the other.

A shadow passed over a hole in the roof. A flock of pigeons. Those would make a decent breakfast.

For both of them…

… the idea made his face strangely warm.

Shaking it off he bounded to the roof and started the chase.

The pigeons and crows were an easy catch, they were fat from eating all the trash and corpses laying in the street. Soon he had a few strung in his teeth. The day was looking so well that the edges of his lips were itching up, he wasn't sure why but he enjoyed it.

Then a gunshot rang out in the peaceful morning air, another, then silence.

His hearing was more than sharp enough to tell where it had come from.

And that fact made his heart stop cold.

For the first time his feet couldn't carry him fast enough, the world seemed to be moving in slow motion.

And when he got there his friend wasn't moving at all

Green blood was sticking to the shoes of the culprits, those jabbering people with guns. They were chatting with ease, like nothing had happened.

They didn't know about the rage that was burning in his stomach or the deep scars he left in the roof from the sheer grip he was strangling it with.

Gone, he was gone, he'd never felt so hollow and alone.

A scream erupted from his mouth, it was a name he couldn't make out in his own voice.

He would make them just as empty.

The first yelped as he slammed into it, before it could pull out that damn contraption he sank his claws deep into soft flesh. He began throwing skin, organs, bits of the thing all over the room. When another shouted he turned and pounced, tearing at its face with his teeth, whatever he could do to hurt them, it didn't matter.

And it really didn't, a sharp crack echoed in the air right against his ear and every one of his senses went dark. The last thing he was aware of was the fading sent of what they had done the night before and those cigarettes.

"Jeezus, what the hell was up with that thing, it was freaking crazy!"

"You alright man?"

"Shit, nearly ripped my face off. Thanks for the bat."

"Hey… look at this."

"What, its got friends?"

"No, the hunter, its eyes… or whatever… the blood coming out of them."

"What about 'em?"

"Looks like… almost like he was crying."

"You're just seeing things Zoey. Come on, we got to get these guys a medkit."

"Ye…yeah, you're right. Lets go."

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SURVIVORS SUCK ASS


End file.
